The Brothers, the Basement, and the FBI
by Gandalf3213
Summary: A different POV to the Boys, the Math, and the Guns. Frank and Joe get kidnapped in Bayport and transported to LA. Soon, Frank and Joe, along with Charlie and Don, must get out together AND alive. Numb3rs crossover.
1. Captured

**So I don't own Hardy Boys. Or Numb3rs.**

"Frank, wait up!"

Frank turned around to see his younger brother running out of the high school, a look he knew very well plastered on his face.

"What happened to football practice?" Frank asked, trying to hide a smile.

Joe looked confused, "foot...? Oh, right. It got cancelled 'cause of ―" he gestured in a hopeless sort of way to the leaves and dust swirling through the air. "The wind is so strong it'd probably pull me away."

Frank nodded and together the brothers started walking towards the van that they shared. "What about the case?"

Joe's look of feigned ignorance was almost laughable. Maybe it was because Joe was too trusting, but he was a terrible liar. "What about it?" he sighed, "You always catch me. You know that case that dad's been working on? The one with the gang?"

"The Clowns?" Frank threw in, "yeah, what about them?"

Joe looked so excited that Frank was afraid he might burst, "They're meeting today!" he waited for his brother's reaction. When he didn't get one he added, "By the docks in the abandoned boat house." Still no reaction. "In about ten minutes!"

Frank took the drivers seat, "Fine, we'll check it out, but ONLY if you promise you won't do anything stupid. I don't want to explain to dad why you got kidnapped for the _third time this year_!" he thrust his finger at his younger brother. Joe seemed too happy to care.

The docks were nearly deserted, summer being only a distant memory. Frank stopped the van so that they were far enough away to be a threat, but still near enough to hear and see just about everything.

The gang that called themselves the Clowns was really a small branch of aan LA gang by the same name. It was comprised mostly of small-time criminals between the ages of twenty-five and forty. The Bayport Police force had been alerted to their presence by a rash of robberies of the local jewelry stores.

It seemed that this meeting, whatever it was about, had recently started. A small window in the boat house let the brothers see that there were about a half-dozen men inside, each of them of formidable size. They seemed to be arguing about whether or not to report the "snooping Hardys" to the leader, whoever he was.

Frank and Joe were so mesmerized by the conversation that they didn't see two men slip out of the small house and start towards them, each baring heavy crowbars.

**In case you were wondering, this POV came first. Yes, the two stories fit together, but they'll have different endings. Look, just review, 'kay? Then I won't have to explain everything.**


	2. Hurt

**I own it not**

Frank slowly came to, his head throbbing, his arms and legs tied with hard knots. As he returned to consciousness, the memories from the event came flooding back. The men... the crowbars... Joe starting to fight back and getting whacked in the face.

Joe.

Frank turned until he could see his brother, who was bound in a similar way. His nose had obviously been bleeding, maybe broken, with all the blood that surrounded the lower par of his face. Other then that, a large red imprint that was slowly turning blue showed the place where the weapon had hit him.

Hoping that Joe's nose wasn't broken, Frank kicked his brother in the stomach just hard enough to wake him up. Nothing. He kicked again, harder this time. A flicker of the eyelids followed almost immediately by a groan.

"Take it easy, buddy," Frank said, his voice a low whisper. "You got hit pretty hard."

Joe tried to move his hands to his face only to find that they were tied. He grimaced, pain evident in his face. "Where are we?"

Frank shrugged, "In a van, I think." He looked around. "Not our van." Joe nodded, excepting the answer. Frank could see that he was starting to fall back to sleep. "Hey, bud, no sleeping, 'kay? Not with a head wound. You know the rules."

Joe nodded, and Frank moved around until he was laying right up against his brother. God, he hated when Joe was hurt. It made his stomach do back-flips and front flips. It made him feel helpless.

"Hey Joe," Frank muttered, his head resting on top of his brother's wishing more then anything that he could put an arm around his shoulder. "When they open that door, we're gonna try to bolt. Or scream. You know the drill ― draw attention to ourselves."

Joe nodded, but Frank noticed that his brother's eyes were less focused. "Hey, _hey!"_ he said, nudging Joe in the ribs.

Joe's eyes opened again, looking straight through Frank. His breathing was ragged and heavy, like he had just run a mile. Frank groaned, ready to keep his brother awake at all costs.

But then the door opened, and Frank and Joe were plunged into a mystery like they'd never encountered before.

**Just...I don't know...Review?!**


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